


All the Ways It Was Meant to Be

by hollybibble



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 5+1 Things, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 02:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybibble/pseuds/hollybibble
Summary: Five times Patrick kisses David first, and one time that he doesn't.





	All the Ways It Was Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Patrick and David's first kiss is perfect, but what if our take-charge guy had managed to take charge? Here's five ways he could have done it. Hope you enjoy! Let me know which one you think is most likely to have happened!

1.

Patrick couldn’t get out of his car. He sat there, parked in Ray’s driveway, pretty sure that he was the biggest idiot in the world. He’d had his chance to kiss David, and he’d blown it. Just a few minutes ago he had been so close. David had been right there in his car, all gorgeous and amused, and Patrick had panicked.

It had been a great evening. David’s face and gone soft and surprised when he opened his birthday gift, just like Patrick had hoped. Patrick had saved that first receipt for weeks now, wanting to give it to David but worrying that it would be a real declaration of his feelings, of how he treasured David and the store they shared together. He had picked out the frame—warm, dark wood that would match the shelves—last time he was in Elmdale. It sat on his dresser for weeks, every morning torturing him with the question if today would be the day he gave it to David, if today would be the day he let David know how he felt.

The gift bag had been harder to come by at the last minute, but fortunately Ray had some, for his new gift-wrapping business. Though that meant telling Ray that it was a birthday gift for David and spending more time than he wanted listening to Ray try to guess David’s age (Patrick would not be sharing Ray’s guess).

The best part of the night was it had felt like a real date. They talked and talked and smiled and talked, and at one point he was pretty sure David’s foot purposely brushed his ankle under the table. Finally, Twyla kicked them out of the cafe, and with nowhere else to go, he had offered to drive David back to the motel.

And then...nothing. Worse than nothing. He started his prepared speech about how glad he was to have met David and become a partner in the store. It was supposed to end with him saying in a deep, tender voice, “Happy birthday, David,” taking him in his arms, and confidently planting a mind-blowing kiss. Instead David had teased him a little, probably sensing how tense he was, but Patrick lost his script. David had looked so breathtaking right there in Patrick’s nondescript car, the lights of the tacky motel somehow magically highlighting his cheekbones and reflecting in his dark, dark eyes. He was so beautiful that it hurt. And he was looking at Patrick expectantly with a sideways grin that looked extremely kissable.

“Okay, well, good night, David!” Patrick blurted, breaking the spell.

“Oh. Good night, Patrick. Thank you for the birthday dinner. And the gift. It was really thoughtful.” David seemed a little stung as he got out of the car and went into his room without looking back.

And now Patrick was alone in his car, wondering what was wrong with him. He wouldn’t get such a perfect moment again. If you couldn’t kiss someone on their birthday, then what hope was there?

Suddenly he heard a tap on his window and startled in his seat. It was Ray.

“Patrick, you have been sitting in the driveway for a very long time. Are you okay? Did things not go well on your date with David?”

“Hi Ray. I’m okay. Just...thinking.”

“Oh dear. Did David not like the gift? You should have asked me for help with the frame. I keep a small selection on hand for my photography clients. Why don’t you come inside now, and I’ll make us root beer floats?”

Patrick saw of a future of evenings spent with Ray, watching The Voice and eating ice cream while David was on his single bed back at the motel. It was unbearable.

“No, thanks, Ray...I forgot to do something. I’ll be back later.” He backed out of the driveway and sped off before Ray could say, “Ciao!”

**  
Patrick was relieved to see the lights were still on in David’s room. He knocked on the door, trying to take some deeps breaths to unclench his body.

David opened the door, looking confused. “Patrick. Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” said Patrick. “I just forgot to do something.” He put one hand on David’s waist to pull him closer and the other on David’s cheek. “Happy birthday, David.”

He kissed him. It was dazzling. The world went from black and white to glorious Technicolor. He felt David’s sharp intake of breath before he twined his arms around Patrick’s neck and melted into the kiss, smelling so good and...tasting so good? Did David Rose always taste magically like frosting? Patrick felt his body relax into David’s, his lips continuing to explore.

From what seemed like a thousand miles away, Patrick heard a familiar voice say, “Ew, David! What are you doing to poor Patrick? Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you can stick your tongue down people’s throats.” He reluctantly tore himself away from David’s beautiful, sloppy mouth to see Alexis standing right behind them, along with Mr. and Mrs. Rose. He was still so dizzy from the kiss that for a moment he couldn’t comprehend what they were doing there.

“Pat!” exclaimed Mr. Rose. “Did you come by for some cake? Hope you aren’t looking for a room because we are sold out!”

“Everyone, it seems that sweet Pat had a special birthday greeting for our David that had to be delivered personally,” said Mrs. Rose. She smiled at him. “Won’t you join our celebration and enjoy a small slice of this scrumptious gateau?

“No, he will not!” said David, looking angrily at his family. “Could everyone please stop offering him cake and pretend that there is such a thing as privacy around here? We were just saying good night. Again. Since Patrick forgot to say it before.”

Patrick smiled at David’s crazy family. He couldn’t stop smiling if he tried. “Thank you. I’d definitely like a piece of cake.” He took David’s hand and whispered in his ear, “It tastes delicious.”

David gave a little gasp and his eyes danced. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted any…” he paused meaningfully, “Cake.”

“Oh yes,” said Patrick. “I want all the cake I can get. Cake is my favorite.”

 

2.  
Patrick was going to surprise David by picking him up at the motel. The plan was to meet at the store site at 9am and put together the new shelving, so they would have a place to display the merchandise that kept piling up in the storage room. Hopefully they would be open for business by next week. The odds of David actually arriving by 9 were slim, so Patrick figured that a ride, plus the caramel macchiato and blueberry muffin in a bag on the front seat, would soften the blow. Patrick was stern with Morning David but secretly found him very cute. David pre-10am was all surly glares, but he responded well to direct orders and was quite fun to tease.

As Patrick pulled into the parking lot, he saw Mrs. Rose at the other end of the motel talking to a tall, hipster-looking guy while he half-buttoned a rumpled linen shirt. He had New York written all over him. Patrick wondered absently if the Roses had an old friend visiting, though he had sensed that their old friends didn’t stay in touch.

And then David walked out of the guy’s room, seeming a little embarrassed to be seen by his mother. David looked incredible, in a leather jacket that Patrick didn’t recognize, and a tight black t-shirt. He’d never seen him look so gorgeously tough before, like James Dean, or Patrick’s secret childhood crush Danny Zuko. David would never look like that at 8:45 in the morning unless...he’d spent the night in that tall guy’s room. Patrick’s mouth went dry. He peeled out of the parking lot and hoped desperately that no one had seen him.

**  
David didn’t arrive at the store until well after 10. Patrick had a long time to think. And to pace, and grind his teeth, and imagine throwing his hammer through the beautiful front windows when he thought of David kissing that stylish, borderline-sleazy guy, but mostly to think.

He had a solid hour to realize that he was crazy in love with David Rose.

It was embarrassingly obvious. He literally thought about David all the time, but it had seemed normal, since they spent all their time together now getting the store ready to open. The store that he’d invested in on an impulse because when he was around the owner, he felt excited and hopeful and optimistic. Sure, it was a good business opportunity, but Patrick knew, had always known, that deep down he was here because he needed to be near David like he needed air and sunshine. He had tried to make himself indispensable, so David would need him, too. But clearly David was not into small town guys who shopped at the Gap and had only recently started questioning why they had been engaged to a nice woman for years but had never managed to set a wedding date.

Patrick hoped that the guy was nice, and that David was happy. Whenever David mentioned old boyfriends or girlfriends, it was always with a bitter laugh followed by a few moments of uncharacteristic silence. Patrick hadn’t asked too many questions since he didn’t want to talk about Rachel, but he should have asked. Maybe he could have let David confide in him, to tell him his sad stories, so Patrick could joke with him until the demons went away. But it was too late now.

When David finally walked in the door, now dressed in a more familiar gray sweater and cropped black pants, Patrick felt raw and exhausted.

“Sorry I’m late,” said David. “I had some things to deal with at the motel.” He seemed calmer than usual, not giddy from a night of exciting sex like Patrick had imagined he would be.

“I got you a coffee but it’s probably cold now,” said Patrick flatly. He knew it was important what he said next, that he not trigger David’s defensive wall, but looking at him there in the morning sunlight, he was at a loss. For once Patrick didn’t have a plan.

David looked surprised and a little disappointed not to receive a bigger reaction and perhaps a little scolding for his tardiness.

“Thanks?” he said. “I see you unpacked the shelves. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, David.”

“Look, I’m sorry I was late. Thank you for getting things started here. I had to help my mother with a...strange situation.”

“Your mother!” Patrick’s voice was louder than he intended, high and squeaky.

“Um, yes. Patrick, what’s up with you today? You seem very stressed.”

Patrick sighed. He hated this distance between them. It was better to be up front and let David tell him that he had a new boyfriend. “I came by to pick you up earlier and I saw you come out of that guy’s room. I felt embarrassed because I didn’t know you were seeing anyone, so I left. I thought we were both, well, kind of married to the store right now.” Patrick rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t believe how close he was to crying.

“Oh. Okay.” David’s expression was hard to read but it wasn’t the triumphant one that Patrick expected. His jaw was set defiantly, but he couldn’t meet Patrick’s eyes. “It’s not quite what I think you think it was. That was my ex Sebastien. He somehow wormed his way into doing a photography shoot with my mother and then crossed some major boundaries, which is pretty typical. I had to, shall we say, run some interference.”

Patrick felt gutted all over again It was bad when he thought David liked the guy but thinking of him letting himself be used like that was much, much worse. “He doesn’t sound like a good person. Are you okay?” he asked gently.

David’s eyes were dark and intense, caught off guard by the soft, concerned tone. He pressed his lips together like he was genuinely considering his answer. “I think I really am okay. I think I successfully shut the door on that whole troubling episode of my life. So now I’ve resolved about 3% of my bad past relationships.” He gave a bitter chuckle that broke Patrick’s heart.

“I didn’t like seeing you with him, David.”

“Well, in case you haven’t realized already, I’ve got some pretty questionable taste. Seeing him today I’m not sure how I let him break my heart, but it was pretty bad at the time. Alexis would be happy to tell you that I spent a lot of time eating carbs and watching Bridget Jones’ Diary after he dumped me.”

“I’ve seen that one. Renee Zellweger. Where the guy says to her, I like you, just as you are.”

“Right, that’s the one.”

Patrick took a step towards him. His heart was beating furiously. “I like you very much, David. Just as you are.” He took David’s hand in his and gave it a little kiss on the soft, sweet part above his thumb.

“P-patrick,” stuttered David.

Maybe this was a terrible idea, to make a move after David had just confessed to having a revenge hook up with an ex. It was certainly unusual, but everything about David was unusual. Every time David talked about his past, it just made Patrick want to hold him tighter. He wanted to show him what love could be like, what he imagined his love could be like, a gift he could give to David every day to say, I choose you, again and again.

“I mean it, David. I’ve never felt this way about another guy before. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” Patrick moved closer. He put a hand on David’s arm, where he could feel his strength through his thick sweater.

David’s eyes locked with his. “Are you sure?” he whispered, with heartbreaking shyness.

“One. Hundred. Percent,” said Patrick. “And since I’m the numbers guy, I’ll translate that for you. It means yes.”

He leaned forward to gently brush his lips against David’s, and he felt it. Electric sparks ran down his spine. His lips had never felt so exquisitely sensitive, like a whole new sixth sense. He could feel David’s warm mouth but he could also feel David, feel his surprise and happiness and his fear of happiness. Patrick wrapped his arms around David to say, I’ve got you, stay with me. He pressed deeper, hungry for more.

He didn’t care about David’s past. Because he was David’s future.

 

3.  
It was the grand opening of the Rose Apothecary, and Patrick and David had just closed the door behind their last customer.

“Congratulations, man,” said Patrick, wrapping David into a hug.

Patrick thought, I can’t believe the store is finally open, and that all those people turned out.

He thought, David smells amazing.

He thought, I’m glad the electrician could come at the last minute to wire the lights. Those YouTube tutorials were very confusing.

He thought, this is kind of a long hug, but I’m not going to let go first.

He thought, oh my god, I’m actually kissing David Rose. And I never want to stop.

 

4.  
“It’s a bit presumptuous of Twyla to hold another murder mystery party so soon,” said David as he and Patrick neared her house, “but I guess she was overly excited about the last one actually being a success.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Patrick. “We’ve been working so much since the grand, I mean soft, opening, we need a fun night off.”

“Hmm, it might be better to limit your expectations. She said the theme was James Bond meets Moulin Rouge, whatever that means.”

Patrick smiled. He was happy. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this light and joyful. He and David had been so busy getting the store ready for last week’s opening, and ever since business had been brisk with curious customers coming all the way from Elmdale to check them out. But mostly he was happy to be walking with David in the twilight of a summer evening, going to a party together like it was a date. He wished they could arrive at Twyla’s house holding hands, and everyone would say, oh, there’s David and Patrick, their names linked together like one word. The idea made him breathless with longing.

Twyla’s house was cheerful with a random array of Christmas lights and streamers and beginning to fill up with the regular crowd: Roland and Jocelyn, Ray, Ronnie, Ted and Alexis, Twyla’s many cousins and the regulars from the cafe. The music was loud and random, with “Lady Marmalade” segueing into Shirley Bassey’s “Goldfinger.” David looked at him and raised his eyebrows to say, what did I tell you?

Twyla greeted them at the door. “I’m so glad you came! Now, here are your name tags with your character for tonight. On the back there’s a little description, plus it says if you’re the murderer. I’m Cherie St. Clair, a fun-loving lady of the night with a secret. My secret is that I have syphilis!” And then she was off to greet the next guest.

Patrick read his card out loud. “‘Sir Henry Whitby. International spy who leaves a trail of broken hearts wherever he goes. As deadly with a kiss as he is in hand to hand combat.’ Wow. How about you?” An idea began forming in his mind.

David looked at his. “Pendleton. What, I only get one name? Oh, I think I’m your...chauffeur. And loyal sidekick.” He grimaced and pouted as he stuck the tag on his shirt. “I think Twyla might have mixed up our name tags.”

Patrick tried not to laugh. He had a pretty good British accent from that high school production of Pirates of Penzance. “Splendid, Pendleton. Perhaps you might fetch us both a cocktail and be quick about it.”

David’s jaw dropped. He looked at Patrick in thrilled delight, just the way he had when Patrick told him he was going to get the money for the store. Patrick had been waiting to see that look again. It was incredibly hot.

Patrick touched him lightly on the elbow. “Now, Pendleton,” he said firmly. “Drinks.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Whitby. I mean Sir Whitby.” David was back in a minute with two glasses of punch, which tasted like melted popsicles and grain alcohol. It was delicious.

“Thank you, Pendleton, that’s brilliant. Now shall we look for this confounded murderer before he strikes?”

“Um, maybe we could finish our drinks first?” asked David. “Sir? Oh wait, am I British, too? Might I ‘ave me punch first?” David looked so earnest trying to master a Cockney accent that Patrick had to smother a smile. He loved seeing this side of David, playful and unguarded.

“No time for that, Pendleton. Our mission is of the utmost importance.” He saw Ray beginning to head their way and put his hand on the small of David’s back to steer him across the room. Patrick was smaller, but David was surprisingly easy to maneuver. David was so insistent about what he ate, what he wore, and the aesthetic of the store, but Patrick had always suspected that he secretly might like to give up that control sometimes, to someone that he could trust wouldn’t abuse the privilege.

“Pendleton, can you assure me of your loyalty? Are you a double agent? Tell me the truth. I have ways of making you confess.”

Patrick saw David’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. His pupils were dilated with excitement, making his eyes even darker than usual. Patrick could just fall into those eyes.

“Um, I might be? A spy? Depending on what you might do about it?”

Patrick saw that Ray was still looking around for them, and he tried the knob on the nearest door. Thank god it opened. He grabbed David’s wrist and pulled him inside, hopefully shutting the door behind them before anyone noticed. It looked like they were in Twyla’s bedroom, dim and quiet.

He grabbed David by the shoulders and pushed him up against the back of the door, just a little bit rough. David gasped. Patrick grabbed David’s chin. “Look at me, Pendleton,” he demanded. “Do I have to...test your loyalty?”

David nodded, his body limp against the door and his eyes wide with thrill and surprise. “Please.”

This was the moment. In one swift move Patrick grabbed David’s wrists, pinned them to the door by his head, and kissed him. It was the kiss of his dreams, the desperate, lust-filled, hungry kiss that he had imagined so many times. He felt David groan against his lips and the noise and vibration just made him crazy for more. He needed more insistent pressing of the lips, more searching tongue, more pinning David up against the door to show him that Patrick was the man he had been waiting for. He was the man David could rely on to care for him and respect him but who he could also trust enough to completely overpower him sometimes.

He went to kiss David’s neck, to find the source of his wonderful smell.

“Patrick,” sighed David. “Oh my god, Patrick. Can I call you that now?”

“You can. Call me. Whatever you want,” said Patrick between nips on David’s neck. He let go of David’s wrists, so his hands could find their way under the back of David’s sweater to feel that tantalizing skin he had never seen. David’s hands immediately went for Patrick’s shoulders, squeezing them like he was trying to learn their shape.

“David,” Patrick gasped, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“Thank god for Sir Whitby, then,” responded David. “Are you guys a package deal? Because I rather enjoy certain aspects of him.”

Patrick grabbed a handful of David’s hair and used it to tilt his head back, so he could lick the front of his neck. “Sir Henry. You don’t actually use the last name with titles like that. It’s not correct.”

“Okay, this is getting a little too close to reality.”

“Don’t worry, Pendleton. You can just call me Sir.”

 

5.  
Patrick had lived in Schitt’s Creek almost a week now, and he still felt jazzed and jittery every time he remembered that he had blown up his old life and was now living in a new town, with a new job. He both wondered why he had done it, and what on earth had taken him so long.

But by Thursday night, he needed to turn off his thoughts. He needed to get away from Ray’s incessant cheerful conversation and his small bedroom with the flowered wallpaper. And that’s how he found himself on the outskirts of town at the Wobbly Elm, the only bar in his new adopted home.

Patrick watched the baseball game, drank a beer and ordered another, ate a hamburger, and surveyed the locals. Everyone here had some sort of counterpart to the folks from his hometown—the loud girl flirtatiously playing pool, the silent hardcore drinkers, the tough bartender, the high school friends reunited to celebrate a birthday. But who was the guy over in the corner by the entrance? He’d never seen anyone like him. He was tall and handsome, with a heavy brow and a delicate mouth. He was even wearing some kind of short skirt over his pants, but on him it only emphasized his elegant masculinity. He paced around the corner, a tightly wound ball of energy, alternately pressing his fingers to his mouth and running them through his gorgeous hair.

Next thing Patrick knew he was by the man’s side. “Hey, are you okay?”

The other man seemed flustered that he had been noticed. “I think so? I just saw my ex Jake kissing another guy in the parking lot, and it brought up some unexpected feelings.”

“Sorry. That’s rough. Want me to beat him up for you?”

The stranger gave him a small smile which made Patrick’s heart gallop. “That’s probably not necessary. But thank you for coming over. I’m meeting my sister here but she’s even later than usual, and standing around by myself is not a great look.”

A rugged man walked in the door. “Is that him? Maybe I could...” asked Patrick. And before he knew what happened, he was kissing this beautiful stranger. He had never kissed a man before and it was completely intoxicating, a mix of tender lips and hard body, scratchy stubble and soft clothes, height and strength yielding to his touch.

Patrick finally pulled himself away and gasped, “I just thought it might help if he saw you with someone else.”

The man looked surprised but not upset. “Hmmm. That’s actually not him, but thank you for being so...thoughtful?”

Patrick was mortified. “I’m so sorry, that was totally out of line. I don’t know why I did that.” He ran out the door before the stranger could say anything.

***

The next morning Patrick was surprised that he didn’t feel embarrassed so much as...empty. Somehow the shame of his impulsive behavior was overshadowed by the memory of that hot, sweet kiss, and the sadness that he never even learned the other man’s name. Fortunately, things were busy at work that day. Ray had left him a stack of paperwork to deal with, and he had a meeting with that David Rose person in the afternoon.

About fifteen minutes past the scheduled time, Ray called to him that David was there. Patrick walked in from the other room. It was him.

David Rose was the guy from the bar last night.

And Patrick was filled with total delight to see him again.

Unfortunately, Ray was right there conducting some kind of engagement photo shoot, and he would surely pick up on any private conversation between them. Ray had great hearing and weak boundaries, and Patrick wasn’t ready to explain last night to him. He could barely explain it to himself.

“David Rose. You bought the general store!” said Patrick with a puppyish grin and a vigorous handshake. He gave a nod in Ray’s direction that he hoped conveyed, I can’t believe it’s you, but let’s talk about it later.

David was just as gorgeous in broad daylight, but he was less intimidating. He was flustered and vulnerable and downright adorable as he tried to describe his business plan. He was also shooting Patrick looks that simultaneously said, who do you think you are? Or maybe, hopefully, why did you run off so quickly? Patrick had a good feeling about this.

“You’re either very impatient or extremely sure of yourself,” said David, with the faintest trace of a smile.

Or maybe both, thought Patrick.

He handed David his business card. “Look, take this. It’s my card and I feel like you will need it.” Later, David would see his little note on the back: “Can we start over?”

Patrick was a take-charge guy, a man with a plan. He was going to get to know David, to help David open this crazy-sounding store, and someday he was going to kiss David again.

 

+1

Patrick couldn’t get out of his car. He sat there, parked in Ray’s driveway, pretty sure that he was the luckiest guy in the world.

He was waiting until he had some kind of control over his face before he went in and saw Ray. Every time he thought he could stop smiling he remembered something new: David’s gentle voice when he realized this was Patrick’s first kiss with a guy; the way David’s hand had felt so warm, but his rings were still cool against Patrick’s cheek; the incredible relief and anticipation of that split second when he knew David was about to kiss him. And the kiss itself, sweeter than he had expected, more tender, more intimate. He had never felt so close to David, not just physically but so mentally in sync, both finally wanting the same thing in the same moment in the same way.

Patrick looked at himself in the car mirror. He was still flushed, and he was still smiling.

So, after months of planning and scheming, of flirting, of filling out David’s paperwork, of applying for grants, of hiking through the woods to plan more, and of trying everything he could imagine to make himself indispensable in David’s life, this is how it finally happened.

He felt like the cursed frog in a fairy tale who had been kissed by a prince and immediately transformed into magnificent true form.

It felt inevitable. Like destiny. Like this is how it was always meant to be.


End file.
